


A Shepherd Protects His Flock

by CivilDisobedience



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Boone's backstory, F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CivilDisobedience/pseuds/CivilDisobedience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Going deeper into Boone's backstory. He tells you about it vaguely, but I really wanted more details.</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Shepherd Protects His Flock

**Author's Note:**

> Going deeper into Boone's backstory. He tells you about it vaguely, but I really wanted more details.

“Since then I haven’t been the same,” he pressed the bottle to his lips, throwing his head back in a large gulp of liquid courage. She tilted his head gently to look at her, only finding her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses. It made her shiver.

“Tell me about it?” She pressed on, the man tugging his face from her grip to take another swig of his whiskey.

 

_'This dinosaur fuckin’ sucks.’ Boone sat in the mouth of the metal beast, staring out into the horizon of the Mojave. This dinosaur was a giant gift shop – or was, at some point, with a staircase coiling through the innards of it. The main floor, around the dinosaur’s ass end, was the only remaining shop in this little town. The mouth, or Boone’s prison, was once what he guessed a popular spotting area to check out the distant desert area due to the built in binoculars on the reptile’s teeth._

_He was good at his job, but boy was he sick of it. Once his time in the NCR was finished, Boone swore to never go back. Yeah, it was the life he was used to, but that doesn’t mean he loved it anymore. He now loved Carla._

_Boone met Carla while on a mission that required him to be stationed in the strip of New Vegas. It was amazing and kind of overwhelming. Nothing at the forts looked anything like this place: Neon lights, women dancing in skimpy clothing, intact pavement, and real live plants! But most of all, the fort lacked her._

_Automatically Boone was smitten, watching her walk past and flash a smile at the NCR boys. She had a red dress that clung to her waist, but fanned out over her hips, and dark brown hair that curled beautifully over her shoulders. Her eyes shone with a fire, deep hazel practically sucking him into her grasp._

 

“She sounded gorgeous, Boone,” Dixie commented, a hand sliding to grasp his own. He allowed it.

 

_Grabbing a drink in the Gormorrah with a group of NCR boys, the women circled them as if it were instinct. Their grimy hands slid all over the men’s backs, up to rub their shoulder. Boone had to break free, gently worming his shoulders and body all together away from the woman whom taken to him. Guilt nudged at his mind, but for what reason? The woman in the street with the beautiful red dress had only passed him a glance, never anything more. Boone strode to the bar where a friendly ghoulette worked. He ordered a scotch, and began to sip it, all the while his mind circling the damn woman in the street._

_“Hi,” a gentle voice called out to him, breaking Boone from his thoughts He nodded a brief hello before finally looking towards the voice, and the woman made his blood run hot. It was her._

_“Hello,” he managed to croak suddenly, a smile playing across his lips._

_The night played out calmly, a few drinks in the soldier causing him to be a little more open than usual. But it was okay, because she laughed at all his jokes and would touch his arm occasionally and it set his skin on fire every time. One more glass of scotch in him and Boone took a risk. He leaned in towards the woman, planting his lips firmly onto hers. She automatically kissed back, to his relief, and grabbed the back of his head instinctively. And, oh God, did it send fireworks through his stomach._

“Sounds like you had it bad for her,” she smirked, and he matched her same smile briefly.

“I guess so.”

 

_Every day that he was stationed on the strip, Carla would see him. She’d grab him by the collar of his NCR uniform and kiss him, right in front of all his comrades. Boy, did it make them jealous. He’d watch her leave, hips swaying through the same red dress, and he knew she was it._

_It was his final week in NCR that he sprung the question to Carla. He described their future, going to a little town and settling down together, all the while he was on his knee with a ring he scavenged from a dead fiend. When she choked out ‘yes’ with a face full of joyful tears, Boone thought this was it. All the trouble and time lead him to exactly this moment. Fate was on his side._

_After tying the knot in one of the casinos on the Strip, they moved to a small town called Novac. Carla showed her distaste for the little town once they arrived and got settled in a small hotel room. ‘It’s the best we can do right now,’ he told her often, and promised her a more luxurious life once they got everything together and saved up some caps. The soldiers really didn’t get paid much, and Carla had practically nothing. But he took up the night sniper position in the tiny town, having to sit in the mouth of the dinosaur and simply wait. Wait for what? Whatever seemed to deserve a bullet._

_A few months went by, and Carla got even more anxious to leave. Especially because she was now pregnant, and there were no doctors in this town. She pleaded with Boone, who wished every night when he was in that fucking dinosaur he could just give her the life she – they – needed. She was in no situation to travel, and he’d be devastated if something happened as a result of him not being able to protect her. A shepherd needs to protect his flock._

_Boone’s shift in the dinosaur’s mouth was a regular one. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he puffed on a cigarette with a scotch bottle settled next to him. Morning came and he headed back to his hotel room, but where Carla usually waited outside for him, he saw nothing. ‘Must be sleeping,’ Boone concluded, and headed right to their hotel door._

_The door was cracked open, and his blood ran cold. He always told Carla to lock up, probably due to what he’s seen in NCR._

_With his gun aimed, Boone gently creaked open the door, sweeping the area for any potential threats. What he saw was even worse. Nothing. He rushed to the bathroom to find even more nothing, and that’s when it hit him. She left. Well, that’s what he thought until heading into the main part of the hotel room where he saw a cross fashioned together with a teddy bear crucified leaning against the wall._

_“Jesus Christ,” he called out to the empty room, gripping his gun tightly and running out of the hotel room._

“I don’t know how I missed them,” Boon sighed, “This was my job. I protected those people at night, and they slid right through my town without me knowing anything.”

“But Boone,” she began to question, “Aren’t the Legion slavers?” He nodded.

 

_Manny Vargas was walking up to take his post when he saw Boone rushing out. Automatically he was at the man’s side, a hand on his shoulder and asking ‘what’s wrong? What’s up?’_

_“They.. Took Carla,” Boone murmured, trying to calm the catch in his voice._

_“Who?” Manny questioned._

_“As if you don’t fucking know! I’m sure you’re the asshole that sold them,” Boone spit, shoving the man away. It had to be someone who knew the town like the back of their hand. Who knew the patrol routes, who knew every little in and out on the protection the town had – including the invisible sniper sat in the dinosaur that saw all._

_“What are you talking about, Boone? Why would I-“ Manny began, but Boone cut him off with a sharp set of knuckles to the jaw that sent him on his ass._

_“You always hated her,” he murmured down at the man whom clutched his jaw. Boone didn’t even look back as he head towards the inn’s office, about to question the shit out of anyone who he came across._

“It wasn’t until you showed me the receipt that I figured Jeannie had anything to do with it. She.. was always nice to us. Gave us the hotel room for free and all. I’m glad I shot her,” Boone stated, and Dixie ran her hand up his back to squeeze his shoulder. “It doesn’t mean I can ever forget what happened before.”

 

_By night fall, the soldier had a duffle bag packed and his rifle stocked with ammo. He told Jeannie he was leaving for a while, unsure himself what would happen. He told her to give away his room if she wanted, but she declined. Boone tracked them for miles, questioning scavvers and anyone he could find who’d give them the time of day. Hell, even the people who wouldn’t even look in his general direction were easily persuaded into telling him what they know with a rifle pointing at them. What seemed like forever was only a couple days, and he caught up with the dirtbags at Cottonwood. There was a huge slaving auction going on, he assumed, by all the men circling a young woman on a platform and raising their hands wildly. When the last man raised his hand, the young woman was shoved back to the guards to collect their payment for her in a swap. The man happily paid the dues and grabbed for the young lady, groping her chest roughly once she was in his hands. The sight made Boone cringe._

_He saw two more women go that way: gross men buying and beginning to assault the ladies as soon as they got their hands on them. It was horrible. Then, he saw Carla._

_She was sobbing, hands bound as a guard pushed her to her knees on the platform. He tangled his fingers into her hair, jerking her head up for the crowd to see her tear-stained face. Boone’s fingers tightened around his rifle, knuckles turning white with anger as dozens of men’s hands shot up through the crowd. There was only one thing to do, really.. So he clicked the safety off his gun and aimed._

“I took the shot,” he said suddenly, pausing after to hurriedly finish the rest of his bottle. The memory left an awful taste in his mouth that the scotch seemed to soothe. “It was me against over a hundred men. There was no way I could come out alive. Maybe it was selfish, only allowing her to die. Maybe I should have gone with her.”

“You can’t think like that,” She stated quickly, “You did the right thing. Death is better than what they do to women.”

Boone thought a moment as the bartender brought over another bottle of scotch. He popped it open and took a sip, offering the woman some. When she declined, he continued, “You’re probably right, but I can’t think like that. She was my love. She was carrying my child. I let them both die. A shepherd is supposed to protect his flock.”


End file.
